


Lucid

by jitters



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21582568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jitters/pseuds/jitters
Summary: [Soulmate AU] As long as Sora can remember, he's had a guardian, to keep him from knowing the true meaning of nightmare.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 141





	Lucid

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this concept kicking around as a wip for a while! originally wanted to turn it into something much bigger but decided to send it out into the world as it is here instead ♪

Sora has never had a nightmare.

Not truly anyway, not anything that lasted long enough to leave an impression, not anything that has ever left enough impact on him to hide in his parents’ bed, or wake up in the middle of the night; none of the other things that usually happen to young kids.

Sora is lucky — for as long as he can remember, he’s always had a guardian.

His guardian, is someone Sora knows as neither real nor imaginary. He appears only in his dreams, and only the ones that show signs of danger. In those moments, Sora’s guardian is always quick to sweep in, and destroy whatever is causing Sora peril in his dreams.

As a child, these dreams were straight-forward. Like any child, Sora would sometimes dream of monsters, and his guardian would be swift to fight off each and every one of them with an ever-changing weapon. Sora’s guardian is fearless, and skilled at wielding every type. Sometimes Sora would be lost in his dreams, and his guardian would appear at his side, to hold his hand and lead him to somewhere familiar again. Sora always felt safe with him.

All kids have imaginary friends. His best friend Kairi explained to him as much, the first time he brought up this guardian of his, but Sora would swear every time that he wasn’t imagining him, and that he never has to force his appearance. He would just be there, without fail, whenever Sora needed him.

What’s more, Sora’s guardian seemed to grow up with him. Every year that Sora aged, his guardian would too. His silver hair grew longer and longer, as he grew taller and taller, and his abilities stronger.

The nature of the dreams changed, too.

By the time Sora hit his late teens, he no longer dreamed of monsters. In potential nightmares, he would find himself all alone, or crying, or helpless, and each time his guardian would still appear, even if just to reach for his hand, or wrap an arm around his shoulders, and lately, sometimes, he just smiles.

After those dreams, Sora wakes up smiling too.

He’s never had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or anything of the sort. But Kairi has had to listen to every one of his dream stories about his guardian every day for their entire lives, to the point where she has begun to tease Sora about these dreams being fantasies about his ideal type instead.

Sora has always shrugged off such jokes. But one dream in particular is all it takes to have him wondering the exact same thing.

He doesn’t remember doing anything differently before bed, but on this night in particular, when Sora falls asleep, he finds himself in total control of his dream. He’s read about this before — lucid dreaming — but he’s never been successful no matter how hard he tried, but here he is, on a bed of clouds, and fully conscious of his surroundings and the fact that he’s dreaming them up.

It’s the perfect opportunity.

Sora closes his eyes and holds his palms together, and the strange birthmark he’s always kept hidden on his hand feels warm, until suddenly there’s another person’s hand in his own. 

“Oh!” Sora calls when he looks up, and he’d back away in surprise were he not clasping the hand of his guardian tightly enough to keep him from yanking it away. “It’s you.”

“Me?” His guardian says, and Sora hears his voice for the first time, how smooth it is, but friendlier than he’d imagined all these years. His hair is shorter all of a sudden, but in a way that flatteringly frames his face and shows off his eyes — which Sora has now realized are a bright, dazzling green he could easily find himself lost in.

“I’m not in danger,” Sora murmurs, thoughts trickling out of his brain without intention. “Usually I only see you when I need something.” His guardian smirks, and Sora wonders if he’s always done that, or if his lucidity is influencing his appearance. That idea has him wondering a few other things about himself.

“Maybe you need something and just don’t realize it,” his guardian says, and Sora is entranced, hanging on his every word as the voice fills his ears like a sound he’s always known, even if he can’t remember hearing it before.

“Maybe…” Sora stares, letting the suggestion exist without consideration. “I’ve never been able to ask your name before. Do you even have one?”

Sora’s guardian laughs, and Sora’s heart pounds. “It’s Riku. Who are you?”

“You don’t know my name!?” Sora’s fists land on his hips and he leans forward, grinning. “You’re the one coming into my dreams, and you don’t even know who I am?”

Riku turns partly to the side, eyeing Sora the whole while. “What do you mean? This is my dream. You’re always showing up here looking like you don’t know what’s going on.”

“Huh?” Sora stands up straight, but he’s scratching his head with enough confusion to weigh his head down. “I’m Sora, but...huh? How can this be your dream and my dream?”

“Sora,” Riku repeats, ignoring the question, or at least refraining from answering it as far as Sora can see. “I don’t know. Maybe our dream worlds just overlap somehow.”

“Cool…” Sora says, in somewhat of a daze. “Well, I’ve never been in control for this part before. What should we do, Riku?”

Riku takes a moment to consider it, but before long, he places both of his hands around one of Sora’s, closing his eyes until light bursts from their touch, and Sora’s holding a weapon identical to Riku’s usual one, which he’s also holding. “If you want, I can teach you how to fight too, so we can do it together.”

Sora waves the weapon around, testing out the aerodynamics, and the weight, and hopping around to test his agility. “Well, I haven’t dreamed about monsters in years, but why not? Maybe I’ll dream about pirates sometime.”

“Right,” Riku nods, and makes a swift strike towards Sora, a move that Sora blocks with ease. “Pretty good,” Riku smirks when their weapons clash and they’re close enough to lock eyes. “Why am I always the one saving you?”

Sora sticks his tongue out. “Maybe I just needed the weapon,” he reasons, pushing back against Riku’s weapon with his whole weight until they separate again. “Practicing is fun enough though.”

Riku seems to agree, though he doesn’t use words to make it clear, instead choosing to slide behind Sora and catch him off guard, teasing “Come on, Sora,” in his ear before knocking his weapon against Sora’s from around the side. Sora isn’t so easily tricked though, and dodges to the side, so Riku strikes nothing but air. “Not bad.”

Sora confidently smirks, rubbing the back of his neck in a mix of embarrassment and pride, though the combination is one he can’t quite understand. “Don’t underestimate me!” he says brightly, and Riku shakes his head, coming at him from the front to engage him in a spar, their weapons clashing over and over and both of them skillfully dodging or blocking in a display of equal effort.

“We should’ve done this a long time ago,” Riku chuckles, brushing his hair back, and the action shows off both Riku’s face and the way his arm flexes, leaving Sora so stunned and red in the face that he doesn’t notice Riku’s neck move, leaving an opening for Riku to carefully trip him.

Riku had expected more resistance to that, so he overshoots the swipe of his leg, falling right along with Sora so they both tumble to their knees on the surface of clouds beneath them. They feel no pain, but both turn bright red when Riku lands on top of Sora, noses touching, and Sora’s stomach flutters uncontrollably until Riku pushes up off of him, flying back in defiance of any real gravity, as if he had invisible wings. 

It reminds Sora that this is just a dream, after all, and despite the pounding in his chest, his smile falls, disappointed to think about it ending, and that mental shift is enough for the world around him to fade, Riku included, and Sora slowly wakes up back in his bed, in the real world, cursing the sun outside his window and the pounding that has now reached his ears.

An hour later, he’s excitedly crashing into a seat across from Kairi, at her usual table in her favorite restaurant at their local mall, hair still a mess and uncombed, clothes mismatched in his haste to meet up with her as soon as possible, and he’s pretty sure he hasn’t stopped blushing. At least he can blame the exercise.

“Is it possible to have a crush on someone who isn’t real?” is the first phrase out of his mouth, leaving Kairi to stare back at him, still sipping from a bubble tea, which she carefully sets down and plants both of her hands on the table in front of her.

“You mean like a fictional character? People get those crushes all the time,” She turns a page in the magazine she’s reading, flashing him a giggle and a smile. “Good afternoon to you too, by the way.”

Sora leans forward, elbows fully on the table between them, slouching over it and lowering his voice. “No, I mean...like someone who only exists in my dreams.”

Kairi blinks, but years of acting as Sora’s dream journal have led to this moment, so instead of showing any surprise, all she does is sigh and pat his birthmarked hand, covered by a fingerless glove, smile turning sympathetic. “I knew this day was coming,” she admits. “But how about your focus your energy on someone you didn’t make up?”

“I didn’t make him up!” Sora insists defensively, and after only a beat, he reaches into Kairi’s bag for a pen and paper, which he uses to crudely draw a picture of Riku as he remembers him from last night’s dream, and dramatically places it on top of her magazine so she’s forced to look at it. “That’s him. His name is Riku and he’s perfect and I didn’t make him up.”

Kairi picks up the drawing, scribbled passionately but hastily, and struggles to suppress her chuckles. “Well, you’re no Picasso,” she teases, but thoroughly takes in what she can from his drawing. “But I’ll keep this in mind in case I want to hook you up with someone and need reference for your type.”

“He’s my type!” Sora yells, not conscious of his volume. “Riku is!”

The call causes a man behind them to turn around, and Kairi looks up over Sora’s head inquisitively. “That guy looks kind of like your drawing. Go introduce yourself.”

Annoyed but understanding, Sora turns around in his seat, and every hair on arms, on his legs, on his neck, stands up straight. “Riku,” Sora says confidently, though his voice catches in his throat as he stands up. “I have to go,” he says to Kairi without turning around, and from her laughter he can guess that’s good enough. 

Sora crosses the street, ignoring passing traffic and getting lucky enough to miss all of it, and though the undeniable doppelganger has turned away, his profile still stands out to Sora as unmistakeable. He reaches out to touch his arm, which is donning a leather jacket, and looks up at him. 

“Riku?” He holds his breath.

Riku(?) turns toward him, and when they lock eyes, Sora feels his palm heat up, still nothing compared to how warm his cheeks feel. They haven’t stopped all day.

“Riku,” he says again, laughing in disbelief. “You’re...real?”

“I…” Riku stares back. “Sora? There’s no way, it was just a dream, I was dreaming, it had to be--”

Sora covers Riku’s mouth with his gloved hand, eyes shifting towards all the people around them suspiciously. “This is totally real,” he strains his whisper, unable to pretend he’s not grinning. “Come with me.”

Without further explanation, Sora takes hold of Riku’s hand, certain it feels exactly as warm as it has in every one of his dreams where he’s needed it, and he’s too happy to stop running once he takes off, even after Riku knocks into a kids’ lemonade stand, ending up with the drink soaking the front of his shirt. Surprisingly though, Riku doesn’t otherwise seem to protest their running.

Within minutes, they’re back at Sora’s home, and Sora’s pulling his guardian inside, tightly gripping his hand so he won’t let it go. He’s panting from the run, but his determination hasn’t waned, and he cocks his head to the side when he catches sight of Riku’s soaked torso. 

“What happened?” he asks, but when Riku opens his mouth to speak, Sora interrupts, yanking Riku into his room and grabbing a spare t-shirt of his own, one he often wears to bed because it’s too big, and tosses it directly at Riku’s head. “Here, change into that.”

Riku is at a loss for words, but that doesn’t bother Sora much, and he ducks out of the room just long enough to give Riku time to change so he can get back to investigating his new mystery priority.

He does honestly try his hardest to look away, but Riku’s arm and shoulder muscles flex with every slightest movement, and Sora can’t help himself, holding in his breath as his eyes run over Riku’s exposed back. Sora used to think he’d give anything to look like Riku does, but now he can appreciate the appeal in having such a sight before him rather than on his own body. As Riku begins to pull on Sora’s change of top, Sora’s eyes land between his shoulder blades, on a mark on Riku’s skin so instantly familiar that Sora’s stomach drops, and he’s stepping back in the room, reaching out to grab Riku’s shirt before he can stop himself.

“What--” Riku stops and turns around to face him, but Sora follows his turn to keep eyes on his back, staring in wonder.

“Riku, did you know?” Sora whispers, stunned into a quiet he isn’t used to feeling and unable to tear his eyes from his discovery. “You have a mark on your back...” Sora would recognize it anywhere; it’s the same shape as the one cursed to the palm of his hand, but on Riku’s back lies a solid mark in reverse of Sora’s outline, almost as if it was meant to be placed right inside it.

“Oh that,” Riku pushes a long breath outward, pulling away a bit more forcefully and sliding his shirt off his arms where he’d barely got it around his shoulders. “It’s always been there. My parents thought it was strange and tried to get rid of it, so I got used to hiding it.”

Sora looks to his fingerless gloved hand. “But you know what it looks like, right?”

“Yeah,” Riku drops his arms, stepping curiously towards Sora with eyebrows firm. “Why?”

Sora takes a tight breath in and hooks fingers into his glove, pulling it off and exposing his palm to Riku – to anyone, really – for the first time, holding out his hand in Riku’s direction without meeting his eyes. “I’ve never shown this to anyone before.”

Riku blinks, eyebrows raising as he looks from Sora’s averted eyes to his hand, and as soon as Riku sees it, he steps in close, grabbing for Sora’s hand without thinking. His fingers run over the mark on Sora’s skin, tracing the outline, and though Sora winces at the first touch, he calms feeling the warmth of Riku’s fingertips against his skin. “The shape. It’s--”

“The same.” Sora finishes, eyes looking up towards Riku’s, now ready to meet, and their locked gazes share the same fascinated glimmer in their eyes, understanding and wonder all at once. “I’ve always had mine too. I don’t like getting questions about it so I keep it covered.”

“I can’t believe it...” Riku looks on in awe, holding Sora’s hand in one of his own and continuing to trace the shape on his palm with fingers of the other, and Sora has to admit, he doesn’t mind. Few people have ever seen his birthmark and even fewer have touched it, but Riku’s hands feel so comforting it’s as if they were meant to hold it. “It’s like they were made to fit together.”

“Maybe they were.” Sora pulls his hand back, slowly so he doesn’t cause Riku any alarm, and he reaches out for Riku’s shoulder. “Can I--”

“Yeah,” Riku answers without hesitation, an understanding of exactly what Sora’s asking written on his face, hidden behind his eyes in a way that Sora finds solace in.

A smile creeps onto Sora’s face, and he grabs Riku by the arm, pulling him over onto his bed and sitting both of them down. He has one hand on his knee, sitting on his feet facing Riku’s back, and he reaches out to touch Riku’s mark with the tips of his fingers first. Just like his own, Riku’s mark is not raised or textured, no difference in the way the skin feels; it’s as much a part of his body as the rest of it. Slowly, Sora presses his palm against Riku’s back, so their marks fit together just as he imagined they would, and warmth spreads through Sora’s hand the instant he makes contact.

But it doesn’t stop. The warmth grows until it’s hot enough to cause discomfort, and Sora wonders if he could possibly be sweating enough to cause that kind of heat, until the warmth emits a faint light, and Sora’s eyes are so fixated on it he almost misses the burst of air flushing against his cheeks.

“What did you just do?” Riku asks, fingers reaching back. “It kind of itches.”

Sora’s eyes follow Riku’s fingers, until they both stop, and Sora’s eyes widen as far as his sockets will physically allow them. Wordlessly, his own fingers follow to brush the black feathers just inside Riku’s shoulder blade – and his other hand follows to meet the ones on the opposite side.

“Riku--” Sora’s voice cracks. “Have you always had wings?” He watches as Riku’s hand stills.

“I don’t--”

“You do,” Sora interrupts him, hand tentatively sliding along one of them until he reaches the end and tickles it. “Heh, they’re kinda pretty.”

“Pretty!?” Riku spins around, brushing Sora’s face with one of his wings in the process, but Sora can’t help but notice how soft its feathers are, and he has to muffle the chuckle it causes when they tickle his cheek.

“Yeah, pretty!” Sora hops onto his feet. “They’re black like a raven’s. And…” He feels a wing from across the top down to the center of Riku’s back, pressing the girth of it between his thumb and index finger. “It’s kinda weird. They’re tight like bat wings but they’re so soft…”

Riku cranes his neck around in both directions a few times before his shoulders tense and he sighs. “I can’t see them. Are you messing with me?”

“No!” Sora digs in his pocket for his phone, excitement overcoming him as he starts recording, keeping both himself and Riku in the frame at all times. “I knew you were cool, but I’ve never seen anything like this. All I know is I pressed my hand to your back like this--” Sora presses his palm between Riku’s shoulder blades again, exactly as he had before, only this time his phone catches everything as Riku’s wings flap once and retract into him with a flash of light from where their hands meet. “Oh no!” Sora drops his phone, reaching out both hands to grab out for Riku’s wings as if he’d be able to stop them from leaving, but he only makes contact with skin again, a dejected sigh escaping him as he rests his hands on Riku’s shoulders. “They’re gone now.”

Defeated, Sora plops back shoulder-to-shoulder with Riku and slumps over, and Riku blinks at him. “Gone so fast? Be honest, you’re messing around, Sora.”

“I swear,” Sora reaches for his phone, still recording, and pulls up the video, leaning against Riku to hold it out for him.

The second he catches a glimpse of them, Riku’s eyes go as wide as Sora’s had, and Sora can’t help getting fixated on watching Riku’s face instead of the video, Riku’s breath seemingly coming to a full stop right beside him. When his wings retract on video, Riku takes a tight breath in and blinks for the first time, turning his head towards Sora, so close their noses almost touch. “So that...happened when you…”

Sora puts his phone down, raising his palm between them and glancing at it. “It’s like a button, and I’m the only one who can press it.”

“So what does it mean?” Riku wonders aloud, turning over his hand to stare at his own blank palm, eyes narrowing in a frustrated confusion.

“I don’t know either,” Sora laughs somewhat nervously, sliding his hand into Riku’s and threading their fingers together tightly. “But I think we’re meant to be together, Riku.”

“You think so?” Riku grips Sora’s hand in his, eyes raising to meet Sora’s where they’re waiting for him, and he smiles. “I don’t mind that.”

There’s a long moment where all they do is look at each other, Riku’s calm eyes meeting Sora’s bright ones, until Sora cocks his head to the side and dons a devious grin. “Can I do it again?”

Riku gasps, but a mirrored grin soon follows, and he nods his head in agreement as Sora races behind him to press a hand to his back, yelling out when the wings burst from Riku’s back again. “It’s weird,” Riku muses. “I can feel it, but I can’t… It’s like a ghost sensation.”

“Hm,” Sora hums to himself as he brushes his fingers over Riku’s wings, quickly becoming familiar with them. “Like when you sit on your hand until you can’t feel it and see if it feels like someone else touching you?”

“What?” Riku pauses for a moment, but with a shake of his body as a warning, he bursts into hearty laughter, something Sora observes with butterflies in his stomach until Riku’s wings follow in his joy, flapping several times until Riku lifts off the bed, floating in mid-air. 

Sora slowly backs away, not out of fear but of amazement, mouth agape and stomach continuing to flutter even after Riku stops laughing and settles back down on the bed. “You definitely felt that, though...right?”

.”I...floated.” Riku balls his fists.

Sora perks up and races toward him. “You flew!” Sora’s eyes light up, and he races over to grab both of Riku’s hands, staring him square in the eye. “Do it again!”

“I don’t…” Riku stares at Sora’s hands holding his. “I don’t know how. It just happened.”

Sora crosses his arms, head lulling back as he taps his foot in thought. “You were laughing. So maybe it’s a happy thing, like pixie dust.”

“Like in Peter Pan?” Riku’s eyebrow raises, but he goes quiet long enough to consider it, and after a moment he shakes his head, frowning. “I’ve got happy thoughts, but no floating.”

“So you can’t just think it, you have to feel it…” Sora brushes his nose with his finger and flashes Riku a smile. Riku blinks.

He doesn’t get any opportunity to ask about it, before Sora clasps hands on Riku’s shoulders and leans in to kiss him, lips touching for the first time in a familiar flash of warmth. It’s over too soon, by no fault of Sora’s, as Riku’s wings flap wildly, and lift him off the ground and into the air, light on his feet as a simple float turns into a full backflip, and Riku’s face is a deep red when he eventually sets back down on the ground.

“I didn’t fly,” Sora says softly, staring. “But I sure did feel that…”

“None of this has ever happened to me before,” Riku explains, shaking his head in disbelief but unable to stop himself from staring back at Sora, each blink feeling like it lasts too long. Their hands find each other, fingers hooking onto one another, and Sora’s palm feels warmer than ever. He doesn’t feel like hiding it.

“Do you think if we keep doing that, I’ll be able to fly too?” he asks, holding Riku’s hand tight, and to his surprise, Riku leans in until their noses touch, and his wings come to wrap around Sora, closing both of them in a feathery hug.

“Maybe in your dreams.”


End file.
